


Percy drabbles

by InsanityIsFreedom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Drabbles, Just random stuff sitting in my computer, Percy Weasley-centric, Post-War, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityIsFreedom/pseuds/InsanityIsFreedom
Summary: Just a few drabbles that have been sitting in my computer and that I have decided to release upon the world. All about Percy Weasley because he's underrated and I love him.
Relationships: Kingsley Shacklebolt & Percy Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

There’s a white tomb by the water. By the peaceful lake it stands, alone amongst the trees. It is a monument to him who has left the world unbidden. Much too soon for your taste. It happened without warning, without you seeing any sign. It happened on a Friday night, when you couldn’t make it. You were far away but the enemy was near. If it had been like the old days, that Friday you would have made your way to the castle at dusk. When the sun begins to sink and paints the world a bloody red, you would have walked up the path to those majestic gates, and climbed the stony steps all the way up to his office. He would have been there sat comfortably in his grand chair, the chess table set, an empty seat and a glass of firewhiskey awaiting your arrival. You would have plotted and thwarted each other well into the night. And you probably would have won for you were always the superior player. But the old days are long gone.

They were over long ago and now there is a white tomb by the water and you wish it was yours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was going to be longer when I started writing it but then it turned out to be one of those beginnings that never end if you know what I mean. Anyway, even I forgot what I was going for. Kingsley seems to be dead? (it's scary how much I cannot remember about this...) and basically I was going to have Percy war-worn and with nothing left live out his last few days. But I had no idea of how he was going to spend them, nor how he was going to die in the end so nothing else ever happened.

It washed over him in the morning, like a bucketful of water and ice, in that particular way that truly terrible visions always gave him. In fact, it was not a vision. It was a certainty. He was waiting for his eggs to finish frying and he knew. Suddenly, with absolute clarity, he knew.

It would happen on Friday. Today was Wednesday. He still had some time. Only he didn’t know what to do in that time. He had no mortal enemy to slay, or detested teapot to smash against the wall – although there was that pink cat plate he got from Umbridge at a Ministry social before…Well, before. His will had been written a long time ago. He wrote it when he was seventeen, but the first draft had been in his drawer for a couple of years before that. You could never be too careful. No one could ever know when they were going to leave the world. Except maybe Percy.

He knew and he had no idea what to do about it. If Kingsley was here, he might tell him to do something about it, fight it, change things. But Kingsley wasn’t here and Percy didn’t have the strength to wage yet another battle. He had gone to war in his own time, he had fought and he had fallen. He had screamed in agony and gotten back to his feet to fight another day. They had won in the end, but the losses had been too great for it to really feel like a victory.

His bad leg had given out at a crucial moment in battle and Fred had died, right in front of his eyes. He had watched the light in his eyes go out and the smile stiffen on his face. Then Kingsley had pulled him up and they had rushed back into battle, trying to forget that the people they wanted to save might already be dead. Trying to forget that when the war is over, new life begins but the old doesn’t return.

So now, here he was, a war veteran, fading into the background of people’s radiant lives. Ron and Hermione had gotten married just a few months ago. The wedding had been lovely, or so he had heard from Blaise who had gone as Neville’s plus one. He hadn’t been invited. Hadn’t been invited to anything since he had failed to show up at Fred’s funeral on account of being strapped to a bed in St Mungo’s. Not that the Weasleys knew of course.

Kingsley was the only one who had known. The only one who had sat by his bed during those agonising hours when no one knew if he would survive, and then held him up when he had taken those first uncertain steps and promptly collapsed. He was the one who had offered his home to Percy when too frequent seizures made it impossible for him to live on his own. Kingsley, who had been the only one to crouch on the floor to play with Percy’s toy soldiers, all those years ago when they had both been children with bright futures ahead of them.

And now he was gone, like a remnant of bygone days that no longer had a place in the present. Like Percy would soon be.


End file.
